


The Scent of Home

by pan2fel



Series: Of Beasts And Men [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV, Final Fantasy XV: Kingsglaive
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Little Sisters, nyxulricweek2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 16:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan2fel/pseuds/pan2fel
Summary: This is my contribution to Day 2 of theNyx Ulric Week 2018, dedicated to those closest to Nyx and a direct continuation of the series.---After being presumed dead for months, there is not much left of Nyx's old life. Nothing except for a box full of memories.





	The Scent of Home

When Nyx was released from the hospital after his long captivity and the exhausting way home, he really hadn't spent any thoughts on the implications it might have had. Most of his days he had still spent reeling. Being back and in his human form still felt so unreal that when the day came to go home, there was nothing left except a big box of memories.  Drautos was standing in the doorway, the carton in his hands and all Nyx could do was blink, dumbfounded.

"You've been gone for so long,” he paused, then continued, “we didn't expect to see you again," he said, lifting the box. Realization slowly sunk in. They had cleared out his apartment, making room for others. Dread settled into his stomach and his eyes snapped from the box up to Drauto's eyes, questions piling up, all equally important. Why had nobody mentioned it until now? Where was he supposed to stay? Even though he had known that they probably thought he was dead, having the proof for it right in front of him was different. His heart clenched painfully in his chest and his mouth opened, but he couldn't bring himself to ask any of this. He raised his good arm in an instinctive reaction to the offered box, but it was clear to both of them that he wouldn't be able to carry it, wherever he would go. After he had performed his braiding ritual a few days ago, he had received a rather intimidating scolding. They had given him an arm sling to prevent further damage to the joint, and Nyx had endured it with a stony expression. He knew that it would help immobilize his arm, but at the same time the feeling of being trapped grew. 

Nyx's eyes fell on the box again, feeling like he had just lost the ground beneath his feet. He licked his lips. He could probably crash at Libertus' or one of the others’, but all their apartments were so cramped and small, just like his had been. He swallowed.

"Marshall Leonis has offered to let you stay in one of his rooms until you find something else." Drautos smiled at the surprised expression on Nyx's face. "Take the offer, without you the immortal wouldn't have made it." Nyx's head swam. Relief battled with confusion.

"Uh, yeah, okay." They had spent some time together after their return, but Nyx was still unsure where they stood. They had saved each other, there were no debts to repay. 

"Good, because I already told him to meet us here," his captain said and looked over his shoulder when he heard the quiet footsteps of Cor. They exchanged a nod and Drautos handed over the box.

"Are you ready?" Cor asked, unimpressed by the box's weight and Nyx only nodded, grabbing the duffle bag with his few belongings he had needed during his hospital stay. He just started to follow Cor out of the room when Drautos held him back.

"And Nyx," he stopped mid step, turning around to his captain, "I'll see you for debriefing the day after tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," he said and left, quickening his pace to catch up.

"Why didn't you say anything? And why are you carrying my box, did you already forget that you got gutted only a week ago?" Nyx made an attempt to take the box from Cor, but the other just kept going.

"I thought your friends did, but I see now that I was mistaken. As for the box, I remember a certain scolding involving braids," Cor's gaze travelled over Nyx's shoulder sling before meeting his eyes. A smirk wrinkled his eyes.

"Yes, but you're one to speak." He eyed him skeptically, trying to find signs of pain, but Cor was exceptionally good at hiding his emotions from the outside world.

"So far I haven't been caught, in contrast to you." Nyx gawked in indignation and gave up his attempts at carrying the box himself.

They walked in silence after that, taking the car to a district Nyx had never been to. It was weird, seeing how the man behind the legend lived. They stopped in front a small house and Nyx wasn't surprised at how barren and down to earth it was. Having travelled in Cor's company, he had learned a lot about what made the other tick. He followed him up some stairs and into a small room. It only contained the barest necessities, a bed, a small desk and a wardrobe. Cor put the box down onto the desk, turning around. "Take your time, feel free to unpack what you have, it doesn't matter how long you stay." He left Nyx alone after that. Nyx turned in a circle, taking in the room, letting it sink in that his apartment was gone. It wasn't that he had been incredibly attached to it, but it had been his. It had been his place in this big, beautiful city, even though it wasn't pretty itself. He took a deep breath and ripped off the sling that was trapping his arm. He flung it onto the bed, disgusted with himself, but unable to endure the feeling much longer. Nyx sank down into the chair, staring out of the window before dragging the box closer. Books and knickknacks were discarded without much thought, placed to the side of the desk. With each item he got more agitated at not having found what he was looking for. Relief flooded through him when he reached the bottom of the box, eyes falling on the photographs and documents there. His hand shook when he lifted them out, blinking against the emotions clouding his mind. Laughter filled his mind, replacing the dreaded memories of his sister's death with happy ones. He stared at his mother's and sister's laughing faces, thinking back to a time when they were still alive. They had been so proud of him when he had come back home, blessed by the storm. His sister loved the coeurl and the coeurl loved his sister. They had spent hours in the shift. They had rolled around the lush greens of the canyon, snuggling close, bathing in the sun. She had rubbed her small hands through their fur, and Nyx knew what peace felt like. They had carried her back home each time, letting her ride their back, even though she was already too old for these kinds of games. But it made her happy and filled their hearts with joy. They were both looking forward to the time she would be called by the storm, when they would be able to run together. There was no doubt in anyone that she would be walking among the Blessed one day.

Nyx put the picture down, staring at the letter beneath it. His hand shook and he almost crumpled the piece of paper. The storm had called her in a different way, however.

Life had become hectic, work at the bar and his involvement with the resistance had kept him busy. It felt overwhelming at times and even though hostile confrontations had yet to be witnessed, feelings ran high and the atmosphere was tense. It had occupied his mind completely so that he almost forgot why he was fighting. It took a letter, innocently lying on his bed one night to remind him.

His sister was wishing him a happy birthday, giving him a present she had made herself and expressing her sadness about how he was never home anymore. Nyx remembered that it had hurt in his chest and that he had vowed to change things, to take more time to spend with his loved ones. No matter how important the fight for their future was he shouldn't have forgotten about the present.

Nyx put the letter down and rubbed his hand over his face, trying to stave off the emotions.

It hadn't been long after that decision that the storm had called them home, that Galahd fell and all that was left was a photograph and a letter. Nyx had felt like dying on that day, empty and disconnected. They had grieved, but they had kept fighting and it had taken them a long time to fill the void again. They had found their way back home.

A knock at the door had Nyx look up, his emotions still running wild, clouding his eyes. Cor’s eyes fell on the sling on the bed, before returning to Nyx, but he said nothing.

“I made this blend of tea for you. Libertus said it’s customary to share a cup when a warrior returns from the battlefield.” The scent of Galahd, originating from the mug Cor was carrying, filled the room. Calm washed over Nyx, brushing away the lingering feelings of grief and sorrow. 

“Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my amazing beta, Jo. I don't know where I would be without you.  
> Come find me on [tumblr](https://whumpershaven.tumblr.com) to chat.


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